BOOK THREE: LIBERALISM AND THE CONSTITUTION PART ONE: THE AGRARIAN DEFEAT 1783-1787
CHAPTER I AGRARIANISM AND CAPITALISM
I
THE BACKGROUND OF IDEAS
English and French Contributions
WITH the close of the war the question of the times was the urgent problem of the form
and control of the new political state to be erected: whether it should be the coercive
sovereign of the whole, or should share its sovereignty with the several states. Although
the problem was political, the forces that were driving to a solution were economic, and
were commonly recognized as such. Agrarian and mercantile interests opposed each other
openly and shaped their political programs in accordance with their special needs. Not
until French romanticism popularized the doctrine of social equalitarianism was there any
serious questioning of the principle of the economic basis of politics. The fact of
property rule was challenged in America no more than in England, and the laws of suffrage
in the several states were founded on that principle. The new state, therefore, took its
shape from men who were political realists, deeply read in the republican literature of
the seventeenth century, and inspired by the 'deals of the rising English middle class.
The opponents of the new state, on the other hand, were economic liberals who rejected
English middle-class ideals, and inclined increasingly to the humanitarian theory of the
French thinkers, though with an eye always upon American conditions. The struggle between
these two schools of thought determined the final outcome of a long and acrimonious
contest.
The English middle class had received its creative bent from seventeenth century
Puritanism. That vast movement survived political defeat and effected a silent revolution
in English character that projected its ideals far into the future. It permeated the
rising tradesman class, stimulated its ambition, and gave it an ethics precisely fitted to
its needs. In inculcating the doctrine of a sacred calling to work, it substituted the
modern attitude towards production for the medieval. It rejected the older conception of
work for the sake of livelihood of production consumption, and substituted the ideal of
work for its own sake, of production for the sake of profit. It implicitly condemned the
leisurely, playloving and pleasure-taking activities of medieval England, and substituted
a drab ideal of laborious gain, that measured life in terms of material prosperity and
exalted the business of acquisition as the rational end of life. In the sanction of such
an ethics, wealth became the first object of social desire; and this ideal, that answered
the ambitions of the rising middle class, was preached under the authority of religion. To
labor diligently in the vocation to which one is called of God, it was believed, was to
labor under the great Taskmaster's eye, and in the confident hope of eternal reward.
No conceivable discipline was better calculated to breed a utilitarian race and create
a nation of tradesmen. The immediate result was the emergence of a middle-class,
unimaginative, laborious, prudential, who devoutly believed that the right to rise in the
world, to pursue economic well-being in a competitive society, was the most sacred of
human rights; that those who were faithful in little things, God would make rulers over
great things. To scant one's service, whether to God or one's master, was the cardinal
sin; work, thrift, self-denial, were the cardinal virtues. This amazing revolution in the
ethics of work laid the basis upon Which modern England was to rise; it carried in its
loins the industrial revolution. The rise of the new ethics coincided historically with
the final disintegration of the craft guilds, and the emergence of the great trading
companies. It provided a desirable sanction for the modern principle of exploitation, and
the development of the middleman system of distribution; and these conceptions the
Puritanized English commercial class seized upon eagerly, and in capable fashion set about
the work of creating the system of modern capitalism.
Every rising group is jealous of its interests and active in asserting them. It joins
forces with whatever movements of current liberalism promise to further its purpose, but
it will see to it that the wider movement shall serve its narrower ends. The commererce of
work for the sake of a livelihood, of production for social class gathered strength
swiftly during the early seventeenth century, and with the gentry formed the backbone of
discontent with the strong rule of Strafford. London was growing fast, " the abode of
smoke, disease and democracy," as a contemporary gentleman phrased it; and the London
burgesses supported Parliament heartily. The new money-economy wanted to be free from
governmental restrictions and exactions, and the simplest I way seemed to lie in asserting
parliamentary sovereignty. That hope was frustrated after 1660 when control of Parliament
passed into the hands of the landed gentry. The aristocracy was too strong for the middle
class, and the latter was forced to buy its the open parliamentary market. privi I rket.
Not until the intellectual liberalism of the later eighteenth century clarified its
conception of the minimized state, did the money economy rise to fresh political
consciousness, and then it joined heartily with the, new liberalism in an attack upon the
centralized powers of the political state.
The philosophy of this new liberalism was derived largely from two notable thinkers of
the preceding century, Harrington and Locke, supplemented later by Adam Smith. The
influence of the Oceana upon later thinkers was profound. In grasping and applying the
principle of the economic interpretation of history Harrington laid the foundation of
modern political theory. The true source of political power, he asserted, is economic
power-" empire follows the balance of property." The form of government in a
given country, whether monarchical, aristocratic, or democratic, according to the doctrine
of economic determinism, depends upon the ownership of land, whether vested largely in
one, in a minority, or in many. This primary economic power is modified, however, by the
presence in every society of a natural aristocracy; the authority of character and ability
imposes a natural leadership on those less capable, and disturbs the simple economics of
the situation. Because of the resulting clash of interests, political stability can be
secured only by a judiciously calculated system of checks; and the system which Harrington
elaborated provided for a bicameral legislaturethe aristocratic branch proposing and
debating, and the democratic branch resolving-rotation in office, and the ballot, to the
end that there should be a government of laws and not of men. His ideal was rulership by
the best and wisest under well-considered laws, circumscribed by a written constitution.
Locke followed Harrington in founding his political theory upon economics, but he gave
to it a characteristically middle-class interpretation. Harrington had been primarily
concerned with a land economy; Locke was to become unconsciously a spokesman of a money
economy. The persistent problem of that economy was the security of private property
against sequestration, and the ultimate effect of Locke's teachings was to secure and
strengthen the rights of property in the state. In basing his doctrine of property
ownership upon labor, he prepared the way for a conception of economic power dissociated
from land. In the universal communism which marks the state of nature, he argued, private
property rights result from labor bestowed, and are ethically and socially valid. But in
such a state of nature, the possession and enjoyment of property thus detached from the
communal whole are at constant hazards.The great and chief end, therefore, of men
uniting into commonwealths and putting themselves under government, is the preservation of
their property.1 If such was the original purpose for which government was
instituted among men, it follows that government must regard property rights with
particular tenderness; for if the state prove untrustworthy, the original compact upon
which it was erected is dissolved, and society returns to a state of nature. Locke
therefore went far in asserting the inviolable rights of property, laying it down as a
guiding principle that the sovereign in time of war may lawfully enforce conscription upon
the bodies and lives of his subjects, but not upon their property. "The supreme power
cannot take from any man any part of his property without his own consent," for
"to invade the fundamental law of property is to subvert"the end of
government."2 In thus asserting the sacredness-of property, Locke laid the foundation
of the new philosophy of capitalism.
As English capitalism grew stronger it began to envisage more critically the
fundamental problem of the powers and functions of the political state. A state controlled
by the landed interests, given to imposing vexatious restrictions upon trade, could not
answer its needs; freedom rather than regulation was requisite to healthy development.
From the Physiocratic teachings had come the new conception that economic well-being
cannot be imposed from above by governmental paternalism, but results from un 1 Second
Second Treatise on Civil Government trammeled individual enterprise. The great concern of
government should be to assist and not hamper industry and trade; political policies
should follow and serve commercial interests. Thus was provided the background from which
emerged The Wealth of Nations, the declaration of independence of modern capitalism. Adam
Smith completed the work of Locke, and gave definite form to the middle-class liberalism
of eighteenthcentury England, a liberalism that in the pursuit of commercial freedom found
it desirable to limit the powers of the state. The Tory state had been centralized and
paternal, the capitalistic state was to be reduced to the position of umpire between
competitors. The net results, thus, of two hundred years of English middle-class struggle
to free its economic ambitions from governmental restrictions was the conception of the
social, political, and economic sufficiency of laissez faire. "Let alone" had
been erected into a fetish.
In France, on the other hand, the economic interpretation of history dominated
political thinking far less than in England, and the liberal movement owed more to a group
of intellectuals than to the middle class. The French leaders were a remarkable group, far
removed in temper from Harrington and Locke and Adam Smith. The Physiocrats were agrarians
and the romantics were humanitarians, They followed the path of logic to broad principles.
As leadership passed from Montesquieu to Rousseau, French liberalism abandoned the
cautious historical appeal, and turned to generalization that carried far beyond
liberalism. The Rousseau school became advanced radicals, aiming at the regeneration of
society as a whole, seeking political justice by a universal appeal to reason. This
explains the breadth and suggestiveness of their thinking, as well as the smallness of
their immediate achievement. In seeking much they overreached accomplishment, for they had
behind them no disciplined, class-conscious group, pursuing definite ends. But in
outrunning their own time, they became leaders of later times; and the unfulfilled program
of Rousseau carried over to become the inspiration of later humanitarianism.
The creative impulse of French romantic philosophy was a passionate social idealism. A
disciple of Locke, Rousseau went further than his master and translated politics and
economics into sociology. That a juster, more wholesome social order should take the place
of the existing obsolete system; that reason and not interests should determine social
institutions; that the ultimate ends to be sought were universal liberty, equality, and
fraternitysuch in brief were the main conceptions of his philosophy. "Regard for the
general good" must be accepted as the sole test of laws and institutions. He attacked
the problem by way of psychology, essaying a revaluation of human nature. Incalculable
harm had been done, and grave mistakes made, Rousseau believed, by the old slanderous
interpretation; to assume that every man is a knave, governed solely by self-interest, was
an assumption contrary to fact. It was a generalization deduced from certain acquired
characteristics. If in a competitive society men prove to be selfish, ambitious of power
and distinction, brutal in seeking egoistic ends, the blame attaches to a vicious social
system that has debased them from their natural state. In a state of nature men are
kindly, rational, sociable; but in society the great rewards fall to the selfseeking A
ruthless social order is forever perverting the natural man; whereas if social rewards
were bestowed on the socialminded, the innate sense of justice would speedily modify and
conrol the impulse to egoism. The solution of the vexing social problem, Rousseau
concluded, lay in a return to a state of nature, where under the determining influence of
wholesome environment the individual should develop naturally, unperverted by false
standards and unjust rewards.
French radicalism, then, was driving in the same direction with ,,English liberalism,
but it - went much further. Both desired a loosening of the machinery of centralized power
as represented by the political state-, but whereas English liberalism protested against a
paternalism that diminished its profits, French radicalism struck at the principle of
centralization. Political institutions it regarded as artificial agencies for the purposes
of exploitation-the state was little more than a tax machine; whereas the living source
and wellspring of every true civilization is social custom, voluntary association, free
exchange. The root of French radicalism was anarchistic, and its ideal. was an agrarian
society of free-holders. .It would sweep away the long accumulated mass of prescriptive
rights, the dead hand of the past, and encourage free men to create -a new society that
should have as its sole end and justification, ,,the common well-being. A pronounced
individualism characterized both movements, French and English; but in the one case it was
humanitarian, appealing to reason and seeking social Justice,in the other it was
self-seeking, founded on the right of exploitation, and looking toward capitalism.
During the period with which we are concerned, American thought, become militantly
self-conscious but still vague and inchoate touching any ultimate program, drew
inspiration from both sources; but the deeper, controlling influence came finally to be
English rather than French. The common doctrine of decentralization fitted American
conditions, but to many Americans decentralization, whether social or political, had
proved unde sirable. The common doctrine of liberty accorded with the passions released by
the Revolution, conceptions of equality and fraternity found little response in a
middle-class, competitive world. On- the contrary, the English doctrine of economic
individualism made universal appeal. In presence of vast, unpreempted resources, the right
of every man to preempt and exploit what he would, was synonymous with individual liberty.
Any government which should endeavor to limit such exploitation would be bitterly
assailed; and if the small man were free to enjoy his petty privilege, the greater
interests might preempt unchallenged. The total influence of old-world liberalism upon the
America of post-war days was, therefore, favorable to capitalistic development and hostile
to social democracy. Until the early years of the nineties the democratic spirit of French
radicalism was little understood in America, and the field remained free to the English
middle-class philosophy, which appealed equally to the agrarian and the capitalistic
groups.
II
THE POLITICAL SITUATION
Against this background of ideas, the political tactics of the year 1787 are
sufficiently comprehensible. Two major problems had been settled by the war, namely, that
henceforth the exploitation of America was to remain the prerogative of Americans, and
that in the new country there was no place for a king or a titled aristocracy. But with
these preliminaries settled, the problem remained to determine the form and powers of a
national government. Should that government be entrusted with coercive sovereignty, or
should it remain the titular head of confederated sovereign commonwealths? The latter
solution had been accepted accepted during the period of war, and in proposing abolition
of the Articles of Confederation and the substitution of a new instrument, the burden of
proof fell upon the advocates of the new. How the problem was met and the solution
achieved by a skillful minority in face of a hostile majority is a suggestive lesson in
political strategy. It is a classic example of the relation of economics to politics; of
the struggle between greater property and smaller property for control of the state.
The strategic position of the large property interests in the year 1787 was favorable
to a bold stroke. In the northern and middle states the controlling influence was wielded
by a powerful money group that had been slowly rising during pre-R evolution a ry days,
and had greatly increased its resources and augmented its prestige as a result of war
financing and speculation in currency and lands. They at once assumed the leadership which
before had belonged to the gentry. Like all eighteenthcentury realists they exhibited a
frank property-consciousness that determined all their moves. With them affiliated such
members of the older gentry as remained, the professional classes, ambitious Revolutionary
officers who had set up the militant Order of the Cincinnati, together with a numerous
body of the disappointed and the disaffected; the net result of which was a close working
alliance of property and culture for the purpose of erecting a centralized state with
coercive powers They were powerfully aided by two outstanding charcteristics of the
eighteenth-century mind: an aristocratic psychology which was deeply ingrained in the
colonial through the long .unchallenged rule of the gentry; and the universal belief in
the stake-in-society theory of government, evidenced by the general disfranchisement of
non-property-holders. Property had always .ruled in America, openly. and without apology,
and the money ,group could count on a spontaneous response to its demand that property
should reorganize the feeble central government and set up one more to its liking. In the
South this reorganization was unnecessary, for the planter aristocracy, in siding with the
Revolution, remained masters of their society, and the money group had not risen to
challenge their supremacy. It remained only for the northern interests to join forces with
the planters to bring the great property interests of the country under one banner.
The status of the small property holders, on the other hand, was much less happy. They
were in possession of many of the state governments, and were strongly wedded to the
Articles of Confederation; but they were deep in populism and their agrarian measures
offered rallying points for a powerful opposition. They lacked disciplined cohesion and
were wanting in a broad program. The militant mood of Revolutionary days had given place
to suspicion and disillusion, and their fighting strength was greatly weakened. They were
suffering the fate of all post-war governments. The widespread depression was attributed
to populist policies, and all the evils from which the country was suffering were laid at
the doors of agrarian legislatures. Under such conditions the political strategy of the
money group was predetermined. The issue was ready-made. Astute politicians like Hamilton
seized the opportunity and crystallized the discontent by the ingenious argument that the
trouble was too much agrarianism, that agrarianism resulted from too much democracy, and
that the inevitable end of too much democracy was universal anarchy. The root of all the
troubles, it was asserted, was the pernicious slackness of the Articles of Confederation
which prevented a vigorous administration. There could be no prosperity until a competent
national government was set up on a substantial basis.
The inevitable consequence was that the ideal of popular demoThe aristocratic
prejudices ratic rule received a sharp setback. ices of the colonial mind were given a
more militant bias by skillful propaganda. Democracy was pictured as no other than mob
rule, and its ultimate purpose the denial of all property rights. Populistic measures were
fiercely denounced as the natural fruit of democratic control; all America was in danger
of following the destructive example of New Hampshire and Rhode Island. "Look at the
Legislature of Rhode Island," exclaimed a speaker in the New York Constitutional
Convention, "what is it but the perfect picture of a mob!" The virus of
democracy was a poison that destroyed the character of the people as well as government;
was not the fate of Rhode Island a warning to the rest of the country? Here is a picture
of that commonwealth, drawn by an English gentleman before agrarianism had done its worst.
| The government of this province is entirely democratical, every officer,
except the collector of the customs, being appointed . . . either immediately by the
people, or by the general assembly. . . . The character of the Rhode Islanders is by no
means engaging, or amiable, a circumstance principally owing to their form of government.
Their men in power, from the highest to the lowest, are dependent upon the people, and
frequently act without that strict regard to probity and honour, which ought invariably to
influence and direct mankind. The private people are cunning, deceitful, and selfish: they
live almost entirely by unfair and illicit trading. Their magistrates are partisan and
corrupt: and it is folly to expect justice in their courts of judicature; for he who has
the greatest purse is generally found to have the fairest cause. . . . It is needless,
after this, to observe that it is in a very declining state. 3 |
"Under the Articles of Confederation," comments a recent ,student,
"populism had a free hand, for majorities in the state legislatures were omnipotent.
Any one who reads the economic history of the time will see why the solid conservative
interests of the country were weary of the talk about the 'rights of the people,' and were
bent upon establishing firm guarantees for the rights of property."4 The
money-economy had made up its mind that such government as that of Rhode Island could not
longer be tolerated. An example must be made of such hotbeds of anarchy; if reason would
not be listened to, force must be used. An ardent Federalist, judge Dana of Massachusetts,
offered a possible solution:
| This state [Rhode Island] will not choose delegates to the convention,
nor order on their delegates to Congress. I hope they will not, as their neglect will give
grounds to strike it out of the union, and divide its territory between their neighbors. .
. . According to my best observation, such a division of this state would meet the best
approbation of the commercial part of it, though they are afraid to take any open measures
in the present state of things, to bring it about. Their interest must dictate such a
measure; they never can be secure under the present form of government, but will always
labor under the greatest mischief any people can suffer, that of being ruled by the most
ignorant and unprincipled of their fellow citizens. This state is too insignificant to
have a place on an equal footing with any of the others in the Union, unless it be
Delaware. Therefore a bold politician would seize upon the occasion their abominable
antifederal conduct presents, for annihilating them as a separate member of the Union.5 |
"It is fortunate," wrote General Varnum to Washington, confirming judge
Dana's analysis of the economic divisicns of Rhode I Burnaby, Travels through the Middle
Settlements in North Imerica in the Years .T759 and 176o. 4 Beard, The Supreme Court and
the Constitution. 5 Austin, Life of Elbridge Gerry, Vol. If, pp. 66-67. Island, "that
the wealth and resources of this state are chiefly in possession of the well affected, and
they are entirely devoted to the public good."
It was Shays's Rebellion, that militant outbreak of populism that set all western
Massachusetts in uproar, and spread to the very outskirts of Boston, which crystallized
the anti-democratic sentiment, and aroused the commercial group to decisive action. With
its armed attack upon lawyers and courts, its intimidation of legislators, its appeal for
the repudiation of debts, it provided the object lesson in democratic anarchy which the
"friends of law and order" greatly needed. The revolt was put down, but the fear
of democracy remained and called aloud for stronger government. "We see the situation
we are in," exclaimed a Boston member in the Massachusetts Constitutional Convention.
"We are verging toward destruction, and every one must be sensible of it." Shays
had failed, but with political power in the hands of agrarian legislatures, friendly to
debtors, what dangers must not the future bold in store? Was it not the patriotic duty of
the sober conservators of society to set up betimes a strong constitutional defense,
before the rights of property were swept away by the fierce tide of democracy? Writing to
Washington under date of October 23, 1786, General Knox argued:
| On the very first impression of faction and licentiousness, the fine
theoretic government of Massachusetts has given way, and its laws are trampled under foot.
. . . Their creed is, that the property of the United States has been protected from the
confiscation of Britain by the joint exertions of all, and therefore ought to be the
common property of all. . . . This dreadful situation, for which our government have made
no adequate provision, has alarmed every man of principle and property in New England.
They start as from a dream, and ask what can have been the cause of this delusion? What is
to give us security against the violence of lawless men? Our government must be braced,
changed, or altered to secure our lives and property. We imagined that the mildness of our
governmerit and the wishes of the people were so correspondent that we were not as other
nations, requiring brutal force to support the laws. But we find we are men-actual men,
possessing all the turbulent passions belonging to that animal, and that we must have a
government proper and adequate for him. The people of Massachusetts . . . are far advanced
in this doctrine, and the men of property and the men of station and principle there, are
determined to establish and protect them in their lawful pursuits. . . . Something is
wanting and something must be done.6 |
6 Brooks, Henry Knox, pp. 194-195-
During these years of unrest the problem of a new fundamental law was carefully studied
by the anti-agrarian leaders and solutions suggested. A remarkable change had come over
their thinking. They discarded the revolutionary doctrines that had served their need in
the debate with England. They were done with natural rights and romantic interpretations
of politics and were turned realists. They parted company with English liberalism in its
desire for a diminished state. Their economic interests were suffering from the lack of a
strong centralized government, and they were in a mood to agree with earlier realists who
held that men are animals with turbulent passions, and require a government "proper
and adequate" for animals; and in view of local agrarian majorities, a proper and
adequate government could not be had without a strong centralized state. The solution,
they were convinced, lay in a return to some form of seventeenthcentury republicanism,
possibly modeled after Harrington, but with further checks upon the power of the
democratic branch of the legislature, and a stronger executive. Hobbes with his leviathan
monarchy had gone too far, but he had, at least, understood the need of a strong state;
and a strong state, subservient to their interests, the business and landed groups were
determined to set up as a barrier against a threatening agrarianism.
The great obstacle to such a program was the political power of the
farmers, bred up in the traditional practice of home rule, jealous of local rights, and
content with the Articles of Confederation. These home rulers Would not take kindly to any
suggestion of a centralized state, even though it should be epublican in form. The thing
must be done skillfully, if it were to succeed. To nullify where they could not override
the political power of the agrarians, therefore, became the practical problem of the
money-economy. The fear aroused by Shay's Rebellion provided the strategic opportunity,
and the best brains of the country suggested the method. The struggle had begun which was
to provide a new fundamental law for the United States.
1. Second Treatise on Civil GovernmentChapter IX.<
2.Ibid.,Chapter XI.
3. Burnaby, Travels through the Middle Settlements in North America in the years 1759 and 1760
4. Beard, THe Supreme Court and the Constitution.
5.Austin, LIfe of Elbridge Gerry, Vol. II, pp.66-67
6. Brooks Henry Knox,pp.194-195
|